Needed Repairs
by PetiteRebel
Summary: This is a one-shot based on episode 8, "Moscow Mule", from season one, where Piper's new electric shop skills are put the test when the laundry room has a major breakdown. It's my take on how things could've happened had I written the scene. Dedicated to a certain thorn in my side. Rated M for a reason.


The beam from the flashlight barely illuminates the hidden wires behind the metal cover at the back of the broken dryer's drum, and Alex sends a few choice words my way. "Do you think you could hold that still, or, I don't know, actually shine the light where I need it?"

Dark strands flit across her shoulder as she tosses me an annoyed look with lifted brows, her index finger pushing her glasses up her nose, before her gaze squints back at her voluntary task. My own eyes do an exaggerated roll, but I shuffle my feet forward across the concrete, leaning into the large opening. "Better?"

"No, I still can't see a thing. Besides, this is probably going to take more hands than I've got. Why don't you jump in so we can actually get this done? Might as well screw this up together, right?"

I stare at the commercial appliance with pursed lips, contemplation consuming my thoughts.

"Today, Piper." Alex chides.

At the verbal urging, my knee hoists to place a knock-off Ked sneaker to the motionless stainless surface, ducking to cram myself into the small expanse. I succeed in getting in the dryer, but the flap attached to the drum to assist in clothes rotation looms ominously from the top, and my scalp collides with it full force. "Ouch!" My hand flies to the self-inflicted wound, stars sparkling in my vision as lashes beat repetitiously against my cheeks.

Alex swivels to scrutinize my face. "That sounded hideous. Jump out. I'll see if you're bleeding."

Wobbly legs extend back from the direction in which they came, but soon secure footing against the ground as whimpers of complaint fall from my lips in response to the throbbing pain.

"Hold still." Alex is encroaching on my personal space, landing on her tip-toes to peer at my head. An elevated hand reaches to part my hair, and I reluctantly yank my set of comforting fingers aside, my grimace permanently plastered on my features. At first, I flinch from her delicate touch, her puffs of breath caressing my forehead, but soon she lands a hand to my hip to steady herself, and I find myself welcoming it all. How can this be happening? My heart thuds wildly in my chest, and I flood with warmth. "You're in luck. There's no blood. You might have a nasty knot on your head later, though." Her eyes shift south, staring at my mouth, as her feet solidly connect back to the level ground, but her hand grips my side with a tad bit of increased pressure, and she doesn't retreat from her close proximity. Stutters fall out to produce incoherent ramblings, and my embarrassment grows when heat creeps to my cheeks.

The corner of Alex's mouth twitches up and a soft sentence murmurs from her lips. "Yeah, I know." Her free hand rises to drift the pad of her thumb over my lower lip, my gaping mouth taking careful breaths. This is it. This is a crossroads where life irrevocably changes, whether for worse or better. A fire rages within as my will battles the body that's already screaming to have her mouth on mine. No, I can't. I almost step back to ruin the moment, but sheer desire stops me cold. Maybe just this once. Just once and she'll be out of my system. Grabbing her jawline as if its a lifeline to a shore I'm floating away from, I crash my open mouth against hers. She readily responds, jerking my hip forward to eliminate any remaining space between us, and shoving her tongue past the barrier of my teeth to eagerly explore. I can't help the moan that echoes within our joined connection, and her hand clutches around my covered breast in a tight squeeze. Before I have time to think, I'm being coerced backwards, my hip knocking a metal laundry cart to send it rolling away. The journey is short, and I hit the edge of the plastic table top to my rear with a grunt, Alex and I all limbs and lips and excitement. God yes. I've missed this. I blink, and somehow she's now straddling my thighs with her kneecaps, both of us perched atop the table while she trails her moist mouth down my neck, and I obediently lift my chin to grant better access. Leaving me momentarily, she wrenches her shirt from her torso, a teasing grin sent my way. "Touch me. You know you want to."

I don't need to be asked twice, both hands closing around the familiar mounds in my field of vision. My shoulder blades leave the hard surface so trembling fingers can fumble with her front bra clasp. "What if someone comes?"

"No one is coming, worry wart." Slamming my upper half back down with an insistent palm, she rids me of every piece of fabric shielding me from view, and I'm exposed in every sense of the word, because in this instant, the mask I've worn that has erroneously displayed my indifference has been irreversibly plucked away. She gifts me with that sexy, seductive smile that holds extreme promise for what's to come, then sets her glasses to the side and dips her head to my bared body. Her teeth close around my nipple to deliver a harsh bite, and dampness pools between my legs as I hiss in response. She skirts down my abdomen with rough, heated kisses, and finally pauses to plant both hands against my inner thighs to forcefully part them. "You can thank me later."

Teasing my outer folds with a gentle lick, I all but beg with the reflexive arch of my hips, but she responds with a knowing laugh, and grants my silent request by dragging the tip of her tongue across every inch of my womanhood. My eyes flutter shut, a hand tangling in silky, ebony locks. She knows just how I like it, now circling my clit with fierce strokes. Holy shit. Moisture drips from my core, and Alex darts her tongue in to taste, followed by an appreciative tone vibrating against my most intimate parts. Two lean fingers join the onslaught, probing inside my warm center with a simultaneous taunting bite delivered to my swollen nub, followed by its roll between pearly whites. My hips buck, previous shallow breaths coming out in a pant, while one palm beats the solid surface my body is splayed against. Alex's glorious tongue demands my acquiescence, lapping at me in a relentless rhythm, until I'm teetering on the cliff of ecstasy. One more brutal pump with those delving fingers, and I fall over the edge into sheer euphoria, losing all control of my entire frame as its riddled with a massive spasm. Toes curl while my mouth mimics widened eyelids, limbs helplessly quivering in bliss. I ride out my release pressed tightly against Alex's face, and as I still, her head lifts with a conceited smile, the organ that brought me extreme pleasure dipping from its cave to swipe across her lips. "Watching you come undone never gets old, Pipes."

Exhaustion has me content, but the mounting feeling of dread comes sneaking in little by little as my mind processes the ramifications of my actions, my happy state faltering. Oh, no. Larry. What have I done? Shock renders me immobile, but the feel of polyester slapping against my navel startles me back somewhat, and my hands busy themselves to numbly go through the motions of dressing. I'm lost in a very real personal hell. I've missed her, every luscious inch and insane shenanigan. God help me. I still love her.


End file.
